


One Touch

by zaniamsextoy



Category: One Direction
Genre: Aggression, Cheating, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 17:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaniamsextoy/pseuds/zaniamsextoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first their relationship was platonic; however, all it took was one touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Touch

**Author's Note:**

> This was a chapter story, but I think that it was too short of chapters to be worth posting in sections, so, I decided to just post the entire story in one full succession. I hope all of you guys enjoy! This was actually my first Ziam fanfic ever.

I couldn’t believe it. Liam pulled away. 

We were practicing for a live concert in Melbourne when it happened. Just another routine practice, and it turned up being the most embarrassing moment of my life. 

Liam sat on the top of a leather couch, belting out his last note when I touched his hair, tenderly, friendly, and right then, he told me to “Get off!” 

I mean. We’re friends, right? Best friends if I recalled. 

Touching playfully was just something we did for fun. Something to get the fangirls all riled up about. We both agreed that it was for the spotlight only. Nothing platonic. 

But I couldn’t help but wonder, even after our practice finished an hour ago, and the limo driver was speeding down the road to our hotel room across southern Victoria, Australia, why was Liam acting this way?

Even now, I sat near the door of the limousine, and he sat at the farthest end from me, his earphones plugged in and his cellphone in hand. 

I stared at him for a moment wondering why my best friend was acting the least bit friendly. 

And then it hit me. 

Liam smiled suddenly from a text from his phone. I knew it was a text because it played that stupid buzzing pattern that always got on my nerves. He was texting Danielle. 

That was the problem. 

Ever since he started going out with her, Liam began acting more distant. 

More . . . _straight._  

I know it was a wrong word to use because I was straight too. It’s just that I loved Liam. Truly. Deeply cared about the kid. The way a best friend is supposed to love their best friend.

Nothing more. And nothing less. 

So why was I feeling left out? 

I wanted to close the gap between us. Take the earphones out of his ear, and ask him what was wrong but I couldn’t. My heart wouldn’t let me.

Scratch that. My nerves wouldn’t let me. 

I felt like I could sweat a Buick. That’s how nervous I was. 

Why was that? I never got nervous with Liam before. 

I sighed. 

It’ll pass eventually, I thought. After all, anything to make him happy, eh?

 *  *   *   *   * 

Liam is pulling away further. 

I can hear it. See it. Feel it. 

We don’t talk anymore, and when we do its only to ask me what song we’re singing or what time it is. I missed the nights when we would twit cam with our fans, and be the most happiest chums in the entire world. 

Liam always asked me how I was feeling, but it seems now a days, all he could help but feel was Danielle.

My lunch wanted to make a stage appearance. 

_Danielle._

Just her name got my blood boiling. She had to be the reason why Liam was pulling away from me. Maybe she was jealous about the close bond we shared or maybe she didn’t like everyone thinking that her boyfriend could ever hang out with or love somebody like me. 

I had to ask him what his problem was. Or that he even had one. 

Maybe everything I was thinking was all in my head? That perhaps Liam wasn’t the one pulling away, but I was? 

I needed to make time for it.  

*  *   *   *   *

Room 409. His hotel suite. 

This was it. Was I ready? 

Ready for his reaction? 

His answer? 

His . . . denial? If all else came to worse. 

I knocked on the door. 

Once. 

Then again. 

Three times. 

Six. 

Eleven. 

Maybe he isn’t here? But I swear I could hear the sheets moving. 

Than it isn’t quite apparent to if he’s here or not. 

He is. Wearing nothing more but his grey sweatpants. He has a tooth brush in his mouth, and that damn phone clutched in his hands. I want to tear it from him, and smash it against the wall. But my rehearsed words---about what I wanted to tell him and how he was making me feel grew into noises and clicks. 

I stared at him, fighting against my nerves. 

“Yeah,” he spoke. I forgot how much I missed his voice. 

“Umm. Hmm, may I come in?” 

Liam doesn’t say anything for a full minute. He just looks at me like I’m a stranger, and wants nothing from me, but to leave him alone. 

I can’t though. I want to know what has caused the riff between us. 

Without saying a word, Liam turned around and walked back to the bathroom. I took it as a invitation. Although a cold one, and walked into his room. 

No matter how hectic our lives were, being on tour and all, Liam always made sure that his clothes were properly folded, and his shoes freshly shined. 

The room was spotless. No sign of mess. Except for a bunch of wrapping paper lying in the center of his bed. 

Before my curiosity gets to me, Liam comes out of the bathroom wiping his mouth with the side of his arm. “What you want, eh?”

At first I don’t say anything. Liam seems cold. Distant. Nothing like the old Liam I knew. Loved as a best mate. 

“What’s gotten into ya, bro?”

“Besides your dick, eh?” Liam shook his head. “Don’t you ever go online? Read the stuff about us? See the types of photoshopped pictures going around on the web, hmm? How I’m a bottom, and you’re always the one shagging me? It only makes things worse when you touch me like you love me.”

“I do lo---.”

“You shu’ up, now!” Liam yelled. “I am not joking here, Zayn. Don’t touch me, don’t look at me. Just keep your filthy paws to yourself, okay? There is no Ziam or whatever the hell they call us. I am not gay, Zayn!”

“Neither am I!” 

Liam scoffed. “Oh, really? You don’t think I know how you feel about me? Just a second ago you were already telling me that you loved me.” 

“As a friend, you idiot! We’re supposed to be best friends, Liam. The closest. You are my best friend and I love you! Alright? I don’t care what everyone says about us on the web or the stories that people are writing. All I care about is you mate. And call me crazy, I thought you of all people would feel the same!”

“Well, not anymore. Danielle says hanging out with you is bad for my image.”

“Bad for you---,” I chuckled, but felt anything close to happy. I was irate. Irritated. I knew that it was all Danielle’s fault. “Liam, why are you doing this to me?”

“Get out. Now.” 

And that was final. 

He shoved me out the door and closed it in front of my face. I banged on it. Using all my anger---all my love to get his attention. 

But he ignored me. 

I pounded one last time before I fell to my knees and cried. 

I cried the entire night. But not one sound came from Room 409. 

 *   *   *   *   *

A month. 

Too much time had gone by without an exchange of words or glances. My heart felt broken, and my body, weak and unresponsive. I felt like a robot living on batteries. 

Mechanical. Dead. 

My schedule: wake up, get ready, practice, perform, smoke and cry myself to sleep. No matter how easy it seemed, it wasn’t. This was the hardest thing I ever faced in my entire life. 

The boys asked me why I was so down in the glum, but I just gave them a fake smile and said I wasn’t getting enough attention in the bedroom. Which was complete rubbish. I didn’t know where that came from or why I even said it. 

Sure I wasn’t getting attention in the sack but that wasn’t the reason for my pain. 

The answer stood only a few feet away from me with his damn phone.

Fuck the phone already! I wanted to tear it from his hand and bang that piece of shit to a million pieces. 

I didn’t though. I just had to be strong Zayn. Happy Zayn. 

But deep inside all it was hiding was suicidal Zayn.  

*   *   *   *   *

Alone. 

We were finally alone together for the first time since he pushed my hand away. We ate dinner with the gang, and coincidentally I was stuck with Liam taking me home. It wasn’t planned or anything. My ride canceled on me and my wallet was still on my dresser. Thanks to the waitress, she put the tab on the house. 

I thought of words to say. Something to start up conversation. 

Liam drove with his eyes fully alert on the road. I could see that it was killing him to give me a ride but not as much as him ignoring me was killing me on the inside. Even during dinner, not one word was exchanged between the both of us. 

We turned into my street and suddenly the car was still. 

I realized my heart was pacing too fast for its own cavity and I was staring at Liam with tears hovering on the border of my tired eyes. 

“Get out.” 

Those words. 

How I hated them. 

As much as I hated Danielle. 

My hand knew what I was doing before I did because it went straight for his cheek. 

Liam quickly pushed it away and balled his hands into fists. 

“Do not touch me! I told you not to fucking touch me, again!”

“Just stop it, okay!” I didn’t realize how angry I was till I finally spoke. This had gone on for long enough. He was either going to forgive me, and move on with it or I was going to leave the band. 

“Listen to me,” I said. “If you don’t want to be friends anymore, fine. But let it be known to everyone the reason why I’m leaving the band is because of you. See how far they can go with that story, eh?”

“Go ahead,” Liam fought back. “It’s not like you did much anyway.”

“Fuck Liam, why are you doing this to me? To us? I can’t take it anymore.”

“Just leave, alright?” Liam slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “Just get the fuck out already, Zayn.”

“No!” The word was hard. Strong. Although deep inside I was crying. “No, Liam. I won’t. Not until we settle this here and now. I’m serious about leaving the band, so help me.”

“Good. No one’s stopping you.”

And there it was. 

The insides of me were showing. I cried. My heart out. I cried till there were no more tears left inside of me. I cried in front of the boy who pushed me away. 

“I have to go Zayn. Please leave.” His voice was softer. Kinder. Kind of like the old Liam I used to know. 

And before I knew what I was doing, I reached out for the keys for his car and ran up the steps to my flat. Grabbing my house key from my pocket, I could hear the door to Liam’s car slam. I hurried to open the door and again, Liam slammed the front door behind him. 

“Give it here, Zayn,” Liam said, holding out his hand. But the keys were already in my pant pocket. It felt at home there. 

So did Liam. 

“Not until we settle this, alright?” 

Liam’s phone went off, again. This time I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed it away from his grasp, threw it on the floor and smashed it until it was dust. 

“What the fuck! That was Danielle.”

“Who cares about her? Honestly. Right now it’s just me and you. You and me. No one else. We are the last two people in the world right now, so help me, I’ll cut it down to one if you don’t stop being such an asshole to me. Now please, Liam, why are you doing this to me?”

“You know why,” he gritted his teeth. “I’m not gay, Zayn.”

“And when was me touching you ever gay, huh, Liam? Ever since you got yourself a girlfriend? Ever since you started loving her, instead of me.” I didn’t feel it until I stopped talking. My tears. They were running down my face like waterfalls. “Do you think I enjoy crying over you, you smug bastard?”

“Just give it here Zayn. I’ve gotta go home. It’s late.” His voice was dead. He looked dead. His hair was a mess, his cheeks flushed and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, showing off a light patch of skin. 

“Then take it from me.” 

Liam scoffed. “Piss off, mate. Just give me my keys.” He was coming alive, again. Angry. I walked right into his face, our nose almost touching. I could smell his sweet breath on my lips and he looked at me, his light buttery eyes making me melt. 

“Come and get them.”

And then I did something completely unexpected. 

I kissed him. 

And Liam . . . let me. 

 *   *   *   *   * 

My bedroom. 

Liam carried me across my flat to my bedroom. He left all the lights off, carried me to my bed and kissed me. He tore at my lips like an animal feasting on its prey. He wasn’t gentle. He was rough. Over stimulated. 

When I asked to talk to him, Liam just grunted. 

Continuing to kiss me until all of our clothes were off, and he was on top of me, my legs hugged tightly around his waist. He didn’t even use lube or spit, Liam just pressed himself against me and pushed in with great force. I couldn’t help but scream from the pain. Liam covered my mouth with his hand and continued to push inside of me. Harder and harder. 

Rougher and rougher. 

No more kisses came after that. Just a lot of pain and Liam moaning when he came inside of me. I could feel his sticky juice deep inside and having a piece of Liam for myself got my eyes rolling in the back of my head. 

Liam let go of my mouth and dropped onto the bed with me still on top. When I realized, even after Liam came his cock was still hard as a rock. He fluffed the pillow in back of his head, grabbed my waist, and slowly pounded me on top of him. 

I pressed my hands against his chest, easing on top of him slower. More gentle. 

Liam’s eyes were closed, his tongue licking the extra saliva that stained his lips. I leaned down and kissed him. Again, Liam let me. I tongued his mouth, lapping up any of Liam I could take. His hands scratched at the bare of my back, and a little while later, he came again. 

But in no means was he finished. 

Liam moved me into another position then fucked me hard. Then into another. And another. And another, until he shot almost ten loads inside of my ass. Even when he slid out of me, his cock was still hard. 

As I went to wrap myself around him, he got up, dressed, took the keys from my pocket and left. Not without a word. No goodbye, Zayn. Good night, Zayn. Or I fucked you senseless only for my pure enjoyment. I used you, Zayn. Now fuck off.

The engine for his car roared to life but I stayed in bed, crying. Feeling the last of Liam drip out of me, and my heart cracking for the last time. 

It wasn’t till someone found me that I realized that I was bleeding. 

A lot. 

My eyes closed and I really didn’t feel like opening them up, again.  

*  *   *   *   *

They said I was out for a week. 

Everyone at the hospital were very nice. I can’t imagine if their generous hospitality came from them being wonderful people, or because I was a world renown superstar. Either or, I smiled when they smiled, laughed when they laughed, listened when they spoke. 

Spoke about how I bled out. If I’d been raped. Was I high off drugs? 

The only thing I was high on that night was Liam. 

And from the time I woke up, he never came to visit me. The boys had come in a day ago bringing a bunch of flowers, balloons and their double dose of personalities. It was nice seeing them again but they weren’t really the ones I wanted to see. 

Before they left for practice, I asked them in a hoarse, dry voice, “Where’s Liam?”

Harry looked up from underneath his head of curls. “Oh, we haven’t seen much of him lately. Ya know, always snogging Danielle. Couldn’t pry her away from him even for the concerts. Which by the way, wasn’t a total success. Almost everyone in the auditorium were screaming for you mate but we told them you had important business to attend to.”

It seems that Liam was wrong. That there would be people out there who’d miss me if I left the group. Even though he treated me like top grade trash, I still couldn’t help but think if he would miss me too. 

Probably not. 

But still I hoped. With all my heart that Liam was going to make a turn for the better. He just had to.  

*   *   *   *   * 

Home sweet home.

Although it doesn’t feel like home to me anymore. For the past couple nights I avoided my bed, sleeping on the uncomfortable couch in the sitting room instead. The boys cleaned up the mess for me and bought me a pair of new black and white sheets. It was a comforting thought but I would have preferred the blood stains. At least, then I would be able to physically see the night between the two of us. 

Although I’m high off of pain killers and some sleep medicine, I can still feel the imprints of Liam’s fingers on the bare of my back, his hands in my hair as he pulled it from behind, and his teeth marks on my lips that have all but faded. 

I can’t bear sleeping alone at night. The memories always bring nightmares. 

When sleep eventually finds me, I dive into his arms.  

*   *   *   *   *

 One. Two. Three. 

Someone is pounding on the door and I quickly jump up, automatically feeling my headache coming back full throttle. 

I groggily walk to open it and with just a small creak the door bursts open from the other side. Liam is dressed in a red plaid shirt and dark denim jeans. His eyes are hard. Questioning. 

“Li---what are you doing here?” And even though he made me like this. A battered lover. A broken hearted romantic. A fool in love. I was still happy to see him. 

He remained unresponsive. 

Liam swung his fist at my face and planted a good hit to my cheek. 

I fell to the floor, making sense of why he did it. I couldn’t come up with a correct answer. 

“That’s for making me fuck you.” 

And he was gone. 

I was wrong to think that my heart couldn’t break anymore. 

It did. Not into anymore tiny pieces but into dust.  

*   *   *   *   * 

More bruising. More pain. More unanswered questions. 

My manager gave me a month off to recuperate after the “accident,” which I never told anyone about what truly happened. Or about how I got a swollen lip. 

I refused to look in the mirror anymore and my only release---smoking---just made my face hurt more. There was nothing I could do to make myself feel better. 

Because the only cure was the problem. 

See. 

That’s the funny thing about love. Well, if you had a dry sense of humor. 

Love can do any amount of damage to you: physically, emotionally and no matter what, you still go back to it.

 *   *   *   *   * 

Liam’s back at my flat. 

This time he doesn’t greet me with a punch. I can smell the alcohol on his breath in an instance and his arms are around my neck as soon as I open the door. He’s hugging me. Crying to me that he is, from the bottom of his heart, sorry for everything that he had put me through. I try to understand why he did it in the first place but that’s when he starts to pull back. 

Liam says he doesn’t know why he did it. Why he made me feel like dirt for the past couple months. Why he used me for sex and then threw me away like a piece of trash. 

He keeps on apologizing, his light brown eyes melting into my soul. 

I can’t help but comfort him, even when he refused to comfort me. 

I hug Liam back, telling him that everything was going to be alright. His tears fall onto my bare shoulder, and he looks up at me with those damn puppy dog eyes. They’re breaking into my soul, resurfacing all these emotions inside of me that I still didn’t understand. 

I loved Liam as a best friend. 

And as a lover. 

When I thought about being labeled as anything other than straight, it hit me. I wasn’t straight or gay or completely psychotic for going back into the arms that hurt me. 

I was human. 

We all made mistakes. 

Had our weaknesses. 

Mine was Liam. 

And as he continued to stare at me with those eyes---those mouthwateringly cute pair of eyes that melted me into a pile of goo, I couldn’t help but bring his chin to my face, and kiss the soft pink beds that were his lips. 

I kissed Liam gently, tasting the alcohol on his breath and what I could only describe was the manly taste of Liam. So sweet. So tasty. Liam’s lips are soft, fragile. Nothing as I often imagined kissing him that night. They were tender, like roses. 

It was Liam that began the frenching. He pummeled his long tongue into my mouth, hauling out my saliva into his mouth. My tongue danced with his and the wetness on his face had all soon but dried. 

Liam’s strong, manly hands were on my face. Holding my face together. Holding _me_ together. Bringing us _back_ together. 

As he kissed me, he apologized. For everything. 

I crossed my arms around his neck, kissing him and feeling at home. Even as we stood inches apart, I could feel Liam’s cock pressing up against my leg. I forgot how big he was and how strong he was to last for so long. 

My hand reaches to the top of his jeans, down into his boxers and onto the lengthy hard on he was endowed with. Liam gave a soft whimper into my mouth, both of us looking down to another one of his best attributes. 

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, his hot breath entering my mouth. 

“Li---,” I whispered. 

But he already had his hand on my ass, lifting me up, back into the bedroom I had been ignoring all week.  

*   *   *   *   * 

Liam laid me on the bed, hovering above me like a rickety bridge. 

He left the lights off but with the incandescent light of the moon shining through the window I could make out his face. His eyes were still pleading for forgiveness and even his hands on my body were second guessing, unsure. 

I ran my hand over his hard abs, whispering to him that it was okay to touch me. That I wanted him to touch me. Gently. Not rough like before. I wanted to be loved. Not lusted. 

Liam was shirtless but still wearing his tight denim jeans. I was just in my boxers. He leaned down, planting a wet kiss on my lips. He was crying, again.

I grabbed his face and brought it down to me. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Zayn,” he said my name softly. Tenderly. Like old times. “I’m truly sorry. From the bottom of my heart.”

“It’s alright,” I said, my hands still exploring. I kissed him. “I want you to make love to me. Make love to me, Liam. Touch me.”

Liam trembled for a moment. He reached down to my bare chest, moving up and down, stopping at my hard nipples and twisting them between his fingers. Liam dropped lower, planting a kiss on my chest. He continued to kiss every inch of my body. 

And every time, he apologized. 

My hands ran into his hair, trying my best to keep a stable composure. But it was impossible as Liam’s breath brushed against my heated flesh and each kiss, electrifying my heart till it began beating rapidly. 

 *   *   *   *   * 

Heaven.

It was the only way I could describe being in Liam’s arms. 

He fucked me from behind, spooning me while planting warm, electrifying kisses against my neck. Beads of sweat fell down my body and Liam was there to lick it up and rub it into my skin. I was still tender from the accident but the way Liam was treating me, like a prize, like I was the only one for him in the entire world, the pain wasn’t pain. Rather pleasure. 

Final acceptance. That he wanted me. 

Zayn Malik: the mysterious one, the bad boy, the rebel. 

None of which did a hundred percent justice. 

I was Liam’s. And after all this time, he was mine. 

Liam quickened his pace, pulling me closer against his chest to the hot, burning friction below. “Zayn,” he said, out of breath. “Tell me you love me. Tell me that there is no one else in the world that you’ll love. No one that can touch you. No one that can fuck you. No one that can love you more than I love you.” 

With my eyes closed, I sunk into his touch. Unresponsive. 

“Zayn,” his hands grazed my chest, down to my inner thigh. My cock was hard, and Liam brushing it, even on accident had a little pre-cum leak from the tip. 

“Yes, Liam,” I breathed out heavily. 

“I want to hear you say it,” his thrusts getting swifter. His teeth biting little love bites. 

“You are the only one that makes me feel whole, Liam,” I said, from the bottom of my heart. “You are the only one who can touch me, make love to me, love me. I won’t---I never did love anyone as much as I love you, Liam. From the very beginning, I knew that I was yours.”

Liam whimpered, clawing my thighs. I could feel his cock twitching. 

“You are the only one in the world---boy or girl---no labels, no right justification to put a name to what you and I share. You are my air. Without you, I will die.”

And he came. 

 *   *   *   *   * 

Sunshine. 

The warm rays filtered through the dark curtains and fell across my face. I smiled recalling last night, when Liam made love to me. The sun pierces my eyes, turning the insides of my lids red, hot. 

“Li---,” I whispered, feeling for the spot beside me. 

In an instance, my entire body jolted upwards. 

The bed was empty, yet warm. The sunlight suddenly seemed sinister. 

 *   *   *   *   * 

Rehearsal. 

I arrived at rehearsal earlier than usual. Wanting to talk to Liam. To see what he had planned this morning to leave me without a goodbye. Niall was the first to shuffle in and he gave me a quick hug before falling down onto the leather couch in center stage. Next was Louis. Then Harry shortly after.

I fell into the flow of the conversation as we waited for Liam. Most of the questions were for me. “How have you been, mate? Are you ever going to tell us what happened? Did you practice on your falsetto? Where’s Liam?”

That seemed to be on all of our minds. 

Movement came from backstage and Liam popped out from the corner, strutting into the room like he had something heavy between his legs. Which I could vouch for. Suddenly the bites in the back of my neck start burning and the long scratch in my thigh start screaming. They’re screaming to be touched, to be kissed. 

“Hey guys,” Liam smiled, shaking everyone’s hand. I stood up to give him a proper hello. A hug which we have always shared. 

Liam took a step back. His hand outstretched. 

“Lili,” but the voice isn’t my own. A tall, curly haired freak came running onstage. She waved frantically to the rest of us but wrapped her arms around Liam’s waist. 

Liam leaned down to stare into her eyes. He leaned down. Kissing her. 

The same lips that were kissing me last night. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

Danielle pouted her lips when they separated. “You forgot to say goodbye.”

No. Fucking. Kidding. 

 *   *   *   *   * 

Heat. Better yet. Fury. 

When Danielle left, I stormed off the stage, pass Paul and outside to my car. Who the fuck did Liam think he was? To use me? Again, for fucksake? 

I slammed the car door behind me. Automatically bursting out into frantic tears. 

“You are so fucking dumb, Zayn,” I said to myself. “You are a fucking loser that deserves to die. You are so fucking worthless. You ---.”

The car door swung open. Hands pulled me out of the driver’s seat and pinned me against the hard surface. “What the fuck are you doing?” Liam asked. His caramel eyes were hard. Vengeful. “Do you fucking think you’re making things look any better when you fucking cry every time you see her?” 

I mumbled, incoherently. 

“Zayn, you fucking bastard! The guys are already asking what’s wrong with you. You only make it obvious that you love me.”

“I do love you, you fucking idiot!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” he bellowed. “NOT HERE! NOT NOW!”

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU LIAM PAYNE! I FUCKING LOVE YOU MORE THAN THE STARS IN THE SKY! I FUCKING LOVE YOU MORE THAN MUSIC. MORE THAN MY FUCKING RELIGION! I LOVE YOU, LIAM PAYNE! FOREVER!”

I shoved Liam away, the hardest I could. He faltered a bit. I used that time to jump back into the car. Locking it behind me. Liam pounded against the glass and I could hear it cracking. I started the car, leaving a running Liam behind me.  

*   *   *   *   * 

Emptiness. 

*   *   *   *   * 

Darkness.

 *   *   *   *   *

 Screaming. 

Liam is screaming on the other side of the door. I can hear the cracks in his voice. In his heart? Or is it just my hearing? What kind of heart does Liam have if he just soaks all my love for himself, leaving me with nothing but emptiness? His heart isn’t a heart. 

It’s a vacuum. 

Soaking up what used to be the endless pool of love I had for him. Slowly, it’s becoming barren. But my eyes have yet to find such luck. As Liam is pounding on the door, yelling for me to open it, “Fuck Zayn, just open the door. I’m---I’m so---you know what. FUCK YOU! I fucking hate you, Zayn.”

That makes the two of us.  

*  *   *   *   *

 Absence. 

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. 

It does. 

But I’m not sure if it’s a two way street. 

Of course I miss Liam. And the boys. It’s been a week since I left the house. Ignoring the endless calls for rehearsal, for press interviews. Paul has stopped by the house a total of ten times. My mother twenty times. The guys, totaled thirty. 

Liam, none. 

Ever since I ignored him that night. 

He deserved it . . . or did I?

I deserve being used by my best friend? To feed his sexual appetite and be left starving for more? Attention maybe? Love? 

Definitely. 

Maybe I deserved to feel this way? Weak. Breakable. 

Ugly. 

Sure, my outside was beautiful, but maybe that’s where my luck ended. There was nothing wholesome or desirable inside . . . My heart was already dust. My blood was tainted with the need for someone who I know doesn’t deserve me. 

But is it me? It has to be! 

What’s so special about me? 

That I’m a superstar? 

So are a ton of others.

Because I’m beautiful? 

Says who? 

I sighed at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

I’m thankful to have all my tattoos. All the indications that I need to mask myself with drawings so people detour away from the true art inside of me. 

The art of being unwanted. Just a toy shoved in the back of the shelf that no one touches or buys. Soon I’ll be washed up. Without family. Without friends. Without fans. Being stripped from everything, I’ll be left with what I deserve. 

Nothing.  

*   *   *   *   * 

Surprise. 

That’s what it is. Or maybe it’s bad luck? 

Liam is in my flat. He caught me when I checked my mail for the first time. He slammed the door behind us, after he shoved me inside. Liam double bolted the lock. He looks different. Tired. Drained. 

Like me. 

His eyes are red, masked between swelling and rage. His anger is taking the best of him though. His chest is about to explode. Heaving in and out. Like a balloon filled to its limit with helium. He has me pinned to the wall, his large hand around my throat. Not strangling. Yet. He’s holding me there, staring into my eyes with his puppy ones. The exact ones I find completely irresistible. I can’t help but close my eyes, to avoid his. 

My downfall. 

Liam’s breath is hot on my face. So is every inch of his body. 

He’s furious. 

 _CRASH!!!!_ His hand hit the hard surface. 

Of the wall behind me. 

My eyes flick open. 

Liam is punching the wall continuously, his eyes closed but large drops of tears falling onto the carpet. His hand is bruising, bleeding. He’s taking deep breaths. Enormous breaths, as if he hadn’t been breathing until this moment. Liam’s crying hysterically, his fist stopped, but his forehead smacking the wall near my head. His hand has dropped around my neck. Falling to the side of my waist. 

Clawing. 

Taking what he can. 

As if I was his source of oxygen and he was clinging for life that was seconds from ending. As if he was feeling the exact same way I have for the months when he used me. 

Liam is choking on his words. But two words are perfectly clear. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Fuck, Zayn, I’m so sorry.”

That is a surprise.  

*   *   *   *   * 

Actions speak louder than words? 

What if the actions are screaming at you? 

Scratch that. 

Screaming through a megaphone, then into a microphone, through the highest amping speakers? 

Liam is kissing me. His lips. Wet. Rough. Appealing. 

Missed. 

I missed them. 

The way they made me feel. The stinging feeling it has as it rushes through my spine, then through my blood and my head. Causing any rational thought to fly out the window, and in the lights of an oncoming car. 

Crash, again. 

His teeth crash against the sensitive part of my neck. He’s biting me like chocolate. Tearing my skin as if I was his favorite meal. I can feel the heat blooming in the spots where he is kissing. His hands have found residence on either side of my waist and he’s moving me against him. Grinding against his full hard on that I can’t help but whimper about. 

“Liam,” I said as sternly as I could. But I know it sounded more like a purr. “Liam. Stop this. Stop it now.”

He snarled against my throat, biting at my Adam’s apple. He snuck his hand under my shirt, clawing up my chest, to my nipples that he twisted between his rough, greedy fingers. 

“No.” 

It doesn’t sound anything like Liam. It was lower. More demanding. 

A needy Liam.

“Put your hand on me,” he growled, finding my mouth. “Put your hand on me. Now.” I kept them to my side. Fighting the urge, to ever again, be used by him. 

Although he made it hard. Unbearably so. 

Liam ripped my arm from my side and shoved it inside of his jeans, feeling the hard, hairy, smoldering heated cock that my trembling fingers couldn’t help but explore. 

He has his forehead pressed against the wall, again. His chin on my shoulder. 

“Oh fuck, Zayn. Grab it. Stroke me off.”

His breath against my earlobe isn’t helping. Neither is his skin on mine. My hand in his pants is still looking for a good enough reason to remove itself. His voice. So demanding. Needy. Nothing is helping me stop. Everything about Liam is my weakness. I want to please him. To contend for his heart that I always seem to think I have but never do have in the end. 

“Say you love me, Zayn.” Liam said breathlessly. “Say you love me.”

Then it hit me. Full impact. 

I stripped my hands from out of his jeans, staring deep into his eyes. 

“First show me you love me.”  

*   *   *   *   *

 Standstill. That’s where we are now. 

Liam’s eyes are a raging storm of love and hate. I can tell because I remember my mom having the exact same eyes about my father. They loved each other, sure. But there were moments when hate overruled it all. 

Liam hasn’t pulled away or cowered in the corner that I, Zayn Malik, the boy who would run to the ends of the earth to be with him, who would swim across the entire sea to sink into his arms, would leave him to make a decision. A decision that was double-sided. If he couldn’t show me that he loved me. 

This. Our love? 

Lust for skin contact. 

All of it would end. 

“Show me you---,” mumbled Liam. “What?” His brows scrunched together. “Your hand was just on me. A place where no other has touched me. And you think I don’t---? What more do you want from me, Zayn?! When I’m giving you a part of me that is yours.”

I scoffed. 

“That’s all I’m worth? For a piece of . . . meat, that I can get from any other guy on the entire planet? Liam, you dumbass, I fucking want your heart!” 

The tears remained at the border of my eyes. Refusing to give him another drop of my soul. 

“Why can’t you see how much I love you! Sue me if I’m sounding like a broken record, confessing how I would give my life for you every time we meet this way. But when is it going to sink in that my life is worthless without you? What more do I have to say to you, to make you see that I’m nothing, if not a black hole, without your love? Fuck, Liam, just get out. I’m done.”

Even though I wasn’t. 

The traitor in my chest, the one missing beats on the off chance that this was it, Liam was going to throw his arms in the air and say that he wanted to be with me. More than friends. 

Lovers for the end of time. 

Liam wasn’t done either. The hotness between his leg was solid and twitching. 

Again, Liam’s hand grabbed either side of waist, rising higher till finding my wrists and chaining them on the wall above my head. 

“Li---,” I said, breathlessly, coping with the too sudden, gentle contact. 

“Sue me if I’m sounding like a broken record,” he repeated the words I spoke earlier, “but when are you going to get it through your head that I’m giving you what I can? Zayn, you have a piece of me that no one in the entire world has, or will have, but you. Why can’t you see that it’s that same fact, that I’m showing you how much I love you?” Although his voice was the most gentle it had been for a long time, it got me angry. 

“That isn’t love. That’s you getting your dick wet because your girlfriend is too uptight to get fucked by you.” I leaned closer to his face, our noses touching. “I don’t blame her. I’ve always been giving you the benefit of the doubt but you’re the worst lay I ever had. Niall’s way bigger than you and can last all night. And please me. Sure you can last all night, but not once have you ever pleased me.” 

Where did that come from? 

Niall? 

As the words spilled out of my mouth, I felt dirty, using my good mate for a petty quarrel about the best fuck of my life. 

Niall was my friend, a good brother who noticed my downfall but kept his concern to himself, only using small gestures to show me that he cared. But it looks like that hit home. 

Liam teared up. 

“Niall?” he choked. “You said---only made love to me? And only me?”

His grasp on me loosened and he stepped backwards. Liam stared at his hands as if something was happening, as if they were bleeding or on fire. Then, he looked back at me. 

“Zayn, how could you?” 

“No Liam, how could you?”

Liam left, again. Another thing he’s good at besides breaking me apart. 

But not now. 

Not today. 

Never, again. 

I overcame the standstill and thankfully, I’m still standing.  

*   *   *   *   * 

The tables have turned. 

I’m not scared of going to rehearsals. All I have to do is use Niall as my shield. One playful push or hug in front of Liam and he would glare at me, his eyes holding back tears. I never realized that vengeance could be so sweet. I should have thought about it sooner and save myself the unneeded heartache. 

I know it’s wrong to use Niall but it’s just being friendly. 

Over friendly, maybe, but platonic. After all, I have been ignoring the boys for a while. It’s overdue to spend time with them. 

“Why don’t we have dinner tonight,” I said to the group, making sure Liam was getting his dose of vengeance. I sat next to Niall, my arm wrapped around his. 

“Sounds like a good idea, mate,” said Niall. “What about you lads? Care to join Zayn and I on our date?” Niall smiled that silly grin. 

Louis and Harry denied, saying they had reservations for the new restaurant downtown. We looked at Liam, who stared back intensely.

“What about you, mate?” asked Niall. “Will you be joining us or am I gonna be having Zayn all to myself tonight?” 

If only Niall knew how . . . perfect his wording and actions were making Liam go off the roof. He was helping me out a ton, without even knowing. 

If he kept this up, Liam would soon be tasting the sweet juice of revenge. 

All Liam said with no eviction or emotion in his voice, but still sending shivers through my spine was “I’m in.”

If only he was in it in the beginning, we wouldn’t be playing this cat and mouse game. We would have been spending the night in bed. Hot skin pressed against each other. Breath brushing against tender lips. Fingers exploring every inch of body. And words that were more than words. They were reassurance. Protection. 

I pulled down Niall’s collar, bringing us face to face. 

He only smiled. 

“And here I was thinking we were going to have the night to ourselves,” I said as flirty as possible to tick off Liam. 

It worked. 

The backstage door slammed in the distance. 

 *   *   *   *   *

 Perfection.

The only word to describe the dinner between Liam, Niall and I. When I arrived, Niall and Liam were already seated. Niall brought a bouquet of red roses and a teddy bear. I don’t think he could have played it better than he was now. 

Liam didn’t stand from his seat or turn around when I approached the secluded table in back. Niall wrapped me in his arms and pushed in my seat when I sat down. Liam sat directly in front of me, his eyes focused on his cellphone beneath the table. 

Niall leaned towards me. “Sorry Zayn, I kinda ordered for ya. Hope you don’t mind.”

I smiled widely. “What a gentleman.”

Niall blushed. 

“And gifts?” I said. “You shouldn’t have.”

“No, no. Anything for you.” 

The table shook. We both looked at Liam who continued to look at his phone. 

“Either there’d been an earthquake or our little Liam is feeling a little uncomfortable,” I said, grinning. “You alright there, Li?” 

Liam grunted. 

“Maybe you should call Danielle and make this a double date if you’d like,” Niall said. “Don’t wanna make you feel like a third wheel.”

“You’re the third wheel,” Liam mumbled under his breath. But Niall was more occupied with the waitress who came walking to the table with two trays full of food. She passed out the drinks and food. Niall dug straight into his potatoes and pot roast. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you all?” The waitress looked young but I’m sure she was in her mid-twenties. She had straight black hair that fell against her back and devilishly red lips that were too sinful to be make-up. I could tell that she was a fan of the band, but she tried her best to keep her composure. 

“That’ll be all,” I said. “Thanks.” 

“And you, Li?” the waitress said, silkily. She perked up her breasts and caught Liam’s undivided attention. 

Liam gulped, smiling his crinkly grin. “Yes, I’m fine.”

A rush of steam consumed me. 

The slut smiled back. “Well, if anything comes up,” she looked between his legs, licking her lips, “I’ll be here.”

She walked away with too much bounce in her step. 

Liam stared until she was gone. He fixed his red tie, smiled and started to eat. 

I stared at Liam but it only caught Niall’s attention. 

“You can ease your grip off my thigh, mate,” Niall groaned. “Didn’t think you were so handsy in public,” he grinned. “We don’t want Liam to think we’re uncivilized sex maniacs.”

That got Liam’s attention. 

He choked on his food, grabbing his glass of water to calm it down. 

When Niall returned his attention back to eating, Liam focused his glare at me. I could feel it no matter how hard I tried to push it down. My forehead grew sweaty, and slowly, I lifted my eyes to his direction. 

They were black. Not his normal puppy dog eyes. 

Then there was something between my legs. 

It was a foot when I looked down. 

But I knew Niall wasn’t flexible enough to do that or . . . gay enough to touch another boy’s junk. I glanced back at Liam whose gaze didn’t change. It was still hard like steel, but the foot on me was gentle, making slow circles into my crotch. 

I grabbed my napkin, trying to hide the blush running across my face. I tried pushing Liam’s foot away but just like his expression, it was like steel and wouldn’t budge, even an inch. 

My dick was betraying me. It was hardening and I could hear Liam smirk from across the table. He was proud of himself. 

Well, two could play that game. 

Niall was sitting right next to me. But wouldn’t that be crossing the line? I know Niall was pretending to be on a date with me---even thought I wasn’t sure why he was even doing this for me?---but I think grabbing his dick under the table would be crossing the line. 

I tried ignoring the extra foot between my legs, taking small bites of chicken to act normal. Although being manhandled under the table was less than normal. 

This wasn’t American Pie!

Liam’s foot traveled away from my dick. 

Lower. 

To the bottom of the seat. 

To my ass. 

He flicked the point of his shoe upwards, trying to penetrate my black slacks. 

I yelped, my face reddening. 

“It’s like a suction cup,” Liam snarled, as if he was ready to pounce. 

“What’s that, mate?” said Niall. 

He turned his piercing gaze away from me for the first time and looked at Niall. “Nothing, Niall. Just an inside joke.”

Liam’s foot hadn’t moved when I sat down and Niall would have caught on to what was happening if I remained a few inches out of my seat for the remainder of dinner. 

Liam rubbed the edge of his shoe against my backside, causing another moan to escape. 

I stood up in an instant. “Bathroom,” I said too loudly. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“To the left,” Liam said, darkly. He smirked. “Would you like a hand?”

Liam’s eyes wandered down. I was sporting the biggest hard on in my life. I sat back down to hide it from prying eyes. 

“Never mind,” I said as cooly as possible. But before sitting down, I moved my chair on either side of Niall and Liam so I wasn’t sitting directly in front of _him_. I was positive Liam wasn’t that flexible to snap his leg in half to fondle my crotch. 

I ate in peace until the waitress came back with the check. She continued to hit on Liam, but his eyes were back on his phone. 

Suddenly, I felt a vibration in my pocket. 

There were three unread text messages when I checked my phone. 

 

_“I brought a gift for you too. But I’m sure a gift this big would be meant for the bedroom. Not for dinner. But since you like eating meat, maybe it’s appropriate if you give mines a suck.”_

 

I gulped. 

 

_“Getting a little handsy there, Zayn. Maybe I’d join in too.”_

 

I scrolled lower to the last text message.

 

 _“Seems like you have a gift for me too ;)”_  

*   *   *   *   * 

Stupid.

I Am. Completely. And. Utterly. Stupid. 

Fuck, I forgot to lock the door!

I stared awestruck at Liam, who had just caught me getting out of the shower. His thick brows were furrowed over his dark eyes and he sauntered towards me like a hungry lion. Running for the bathroom, I shoved the door closed behind me. But Liam’s foot is caught in the landing. His hand snakes through the crack of the door and turns off the light switch. 

The bathroom is pitch black and I’m struggling to shut the door. To stop Liam from going completely crazy. 

“Zayn,” his voice is dark. Throaty. Edge.

It’s needy Liam. 

My feet are slipping. The door is slowly opening more and more, until there is no more light. The door is finally closed.

With Liam somewhere in the darkness. 

*   *   *   *   *

Ominous. 

I can hear my heart pulsing frantically inside of my chest. My mouth is dry and every hair on my body is sticking up. My body, stiff. Liam is in my bathroom. The lights turned off. The scene, black. I can barely see the nose in front of my face and apart from my breathing, I can hear Liam’s. He is breathing heavily. Sounds of clothes hitting the floor. 

I edge towards the shower, my back hitting the cold, glass surface. 

“Stop, Li.” My breath is hoarse, shaky. I can feel myself about to pass out at any minute. 

There is silence, as if I was talking to myself. 

A menacingly growl rips through the air. 

“No,” he says. “You tease me all week. Hug Niall. Kiss Niall on the cheek. Wrap your body on Niall. Grab Niall’s thigh. What about me? What about Liam?” I can’t see him grin, but I can hear it in his cocky tone. “Zayn, Zayn, Zayn. If there’s one thing you should have learned, it’s not to get me upset. You’re going to feel my wrath. Feel my cock up your ass until you’re aching for more. I’m gonna fuck you harder than Niall ever could.”

Liam scoffed. 

“You actually got me for a second when you said you slept with Niall,” Liam chuckled. “I asked him after dinner and he denied the whole thing. A little below the belt to use one of your good mates for your twisted game to get me angry. Well, it worked. I’ve got weeks of vented rage and a cock that’s been throbbing since our last fuck. Ready to unload in your hungry ass.”

Again, I can sense a grin. Even if I’m blind in the darkness. 

I gulp, my skin suddenly sweaty, and my head on cloud nine. 

“And what makes you think I’m going to agree to have sex with you?” I ask, my voice betraying me. I was whimpering for his touches. For his perfect fat dick that fitted right in my ass. “If you touch me without consent, I’ll scream rape.”

Liam chuckled, darkly. 

“Not when I’m done with you. I’m going to  have you begging for more. _‘Fuck me harder, Li. Let me feel you cum in my ass. Oh, fuck. Yeah, right there. Faster. Harder. Bite my neck. Pinch my nipples.’_ I’ll have you screaming like before, Zee. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

And then there is no secret to where Liam is in the darkness. 

He slams me against the shower door. I can feel his throbbing cock next to mine, and I can feel my own reacting with his. It’s hardening against his. Coming alive. 

Just like me. 

Liam has my wrists above my head, nudging his nose against my hair, my face, and my neck where he licked a trail of saliva that mixed in with my sweat. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, Zayn. Always have. I wonder how your cum tastes like. Sweet? Salty? A mixture of both?”

I whimper like a bitch at Liam’s words. Melting into his voice. 

Liam’s hands trail down my arms, to my waist and squeezes my ass tightly. His finger explores between my ass cheeks, and start rubbing my puckering hole. 

“Your ass must be starving,” he says, slyly sticking a finger inside. “So hungry.”

I gasp. “Li, come on.”

And then he is sinking lower, turning me around, my hands pressed against the glass door. He opens my cheeks and tongues at the heat. 

“So good, Zee. But I bet it’ll taste better with me inside.” 

With one long lap of his tongue, Liam stood up and aligned himself with my entrance. “Open wider,” he whispered against my ear. 

I did what he commanded. 

Liam rubbed his member against my entrance. Teasing me. 

“Oh, Li. Yeah. Do it. Fuck me.”

And he does. 

Liam pushes inside of me until my ass is touching his pelvis. 

I bite on my knuckles, coping with the pressure. An unexplainable heat rushes through me, and Liam pushes me harder into the glass, the glass shaking, as if its about to crack in half. 

“So tight, Zee. So tight. Just for me.”

“Fill me up, Liam. I want your baby juice inside of me.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna make sure your ass doesn’t go thirsty, again.” His buzzed hair is against my back, and he’s pushing swifter, harder. “Zayn,” he moans. “I love you.”

His body stiffens, his legs shakes. 

Liam cums. 

And finally, so do I.  

*   *   *   *   *

 Darkness. 

There is something there. Besides Liam, who is leaning on me, softening inside as we both catch out breaths. Liam hasn’t pulled out yet, his arm, wrapped securely around my waist. I can feel his heart beating slower as we descend from passion and into love. 

Or perhaps the mask of love? 

It was all up to Liam. 

Since day one, through X-factor and becoming famous, I was always Liam’s. But not once did I have an answer to whether he was mine. 

With my hand pressed against the glass, and my forehead against my arm, feeling Liam’s small movements against my back. He’s kissing me softly, as if I got a bad cut or bruise, and he was there to kiss it all better. His gentle fingers are sliding against my sweaty chest, until they leave for a second to open the shower door. 

We step inside, finally pulling apart. Liam hooks his chin on my shoulder, reaching blindly in the darkness for the shower knob and turning the hot water on. The water cascades on us both, and it’s a cleansing of some sort. 

Liam grabs the bar soap and lathers my back, my arms, my ass, and my legs. Giving me a special treatment of some sort. 

When the suds wash away, he’s kissing every inch of my body. In places I would never expect anyone to ever kiss. In intimate spots. On my hand, like a true English gentleman. His tongue licking from my calf, to my thigh, up my ass cheek, my spine, to my shoulders and neck. 

Liam grabbed my chin, pulling my face back towards him. Melting into him. 

“I love you, Zayn,” he whispered against my ear, nibbling on my lobe. “I love you so fucking much that it hurts me. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. And whatever next.” His tone in voice switches. It becomes vulnerable, and cracky. “I’m so sorry for the first time I fucked you, Zayn. There’s no excuse to how I treated you. I was in a dark place. Zayn, you have to understand that you bring out the best . . . and worst in me.

“When I started dating Danielle, it was only to occupy my time away from you,” he confessed. His hand dropped from my chin, but he soon replaced both arms around my waist, hugging me closer to his chest. The water cascaded on both of us. 

“I’ve been fighting these feelings. Feelings for you. Just because I saw what Louis and Harry went through with management, and fans, and to put it as honestly as possible, I didn’t want that. I was a coward to tell you how I felt because of what people would say. That’s what killed me the most. Being told that I was a disgrace to my family. That I was going to hell. And whatever people say about this. What we have.

“Like you said before, I don’t want to be labeled as . . . _gay_ or . . . a _fairy_. I just want to love you without the names. Without the disgrace from my parents. Or from the world we live in. But then I realized, that you are my world, Zayn. As long as I have you, everything is right. Because it’s exactly where I want to be.”

A few tears fell from my eyes. 

I turn around, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“You know, you hurt me, Li. So much.”

Liam leaned his forehead against mine. Making a barrier from the falling water. His hand is on my chin, again. 

“These past months, I felt cheap. Used. You would hurt me until I felt like dying.” 

Liam quickly kissed me. 

“Don’t fucking say that, Zayn. You can hate me for everything, and do it for the rest of your life. But don’t say you feel like dying. I don’t want you thinking like that.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to think. You’d come over at night. Pretend that you loved me, just to use me for sex.”

“I never pretended to love you, Zee. I was just being a real asshole.”

“A very big one,” I chuckled lightly against his lips. My voice turned serious. “Please don’t say all these things and leave me the next morning. I don’t think I can handle being treated the way you’ve been treating me lately. We don’t have to be lovey-dovey when we’re with the boys, but I just want to know, from the bottom of your heart, that you love me.”

Liam planted another soft kiss to my mouth, moving my hand against his heart. 

“It has always been yours, Zayn. And always will be.”


End file.
